Forever home

I glance up from my ever studious concentration on the small tv. placed at the front of the train. I have to scrunch my eyes and crain my neck to see around the lanky body of the person in front of me. He’s got to be at least six feet tall. Of course I’m stuck behind him, just my luck. I’ve been willing my body to grow for years now to no avail. I remain the same stubby klutz I always have been. I’m about 5’3 and have discovered that I’m about the same size as a grade 5 despite my being in grade 11. With a sigh I give up on my attempt to watch the movie twighlight, rubbing my aching neck where a cramp had begun to grow. I rest my forehead on the velvety soft seat and try my best to ignore the snores of the women beside me, her body creeping closer and closer to me the more sleep drags her into its depths. Looking out the window I am delighted by the view, ancient forests of trees whip by, their branches reaching out towards the sky, touching the puffs of clouds drifting through the air. The sun beats down on my face through the window and I can see a soft wind blowing the delicate stems of pink and red tinged flowers. It’s almost as if they’re waving hello I think to myself. We pass a crystal clear lake with water so still it reflects the view of the ice capped mountains towering behind. Monstrous and brutal, but a stunning view none the less. They jab high into the sky, disappearing through the layers of clouds, half way up they appear frosty with snow. In the distance I can see the outskirts of a small town. The train is approaching rapidly and I just manage to read the sign, “Welcome to Valiant Village”, a cheery sign covered in designs of mountains, even by a quick glance I can tell it must have been created by someone extremely talented. I close my eyes and listen to the soft hum of the train's engine. The foster care association has been dutifully tossing me from one home to the next over the course of 5 years. After the accident, my parents bodies lying in the wreckage…. Stop it I tell myself, shaking my head to clear the image. There’s no point in thinking about that, my past that’s left me damaged inside. My parents are gone and no amount of wishing or anger would bring them back. I’ve learned that from experience, my unannounced tantrums or bursts of grief were always capable of scaring off parents looking to adopt. Claiming I had “too much baggage” to enter their perfect lives. Still no forever home. I guess that’s what happens when you’re no longer an adorable child. I rub my temples and allow the rumble of the train to lull me into sleep. My last thoughts being of the new foster home I'm going to. Hanging onto a thread of hope I wonder if maybe this will be it, maybe I’ll find my home at last.